The Phantom Returns
by The Porcelain Puppeteer
Summary: Six years after he fled the Opéra Populaire, The Phantom of The Opera has returned to his home to find it in the care of a young woman who has taken up his title as the Opera Ghost. When the Opera is in trouble, can they work together to save their home?
1. Mon Fantôme

**Author's Note:** Hello all! I'm on a Phantom of The Opera kick right now and I felt like I had to get this one out of my head. I'm taking a little break in my Criminal Hearts fanfic. I'm not totally sure where I want that to go just yet. In the meantime I thought I'd write something in a little less modern setting to one of my favorite musicals of all time. Plus it'll give me a chance to flex my brain in a prettier direction. I feel like stories set in the past are supposed to be written prettily and dramatically. But that's just me.

This is just a little scene to start off the whole shebang. The next chapter will be longer and will have more information about the situation but I really wanted to dramatize this like a movie or a musical.

And now, without further ado. _Let the show begin!_

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Jade eyes closed in concentration. All motion ceased as a young brunette woman pressed an ear against the wall of the tiny drawing room she hid in. Even the normal rise and fall of her chest was still in the silence of the drawing room. She listened intently to the muffled voices on the other side of the wall. Two she clearly recognized. Monsieur's Richard Firmin and Gilles André were talking in animated tones. Obviously the two had something to be excited about. The young woman's skin crawled. If her managers were excited, that usually meant trouble for everyone. But there were two other voices the young woman did not recognize. They weren't as animated but the tones were calm and calculating. She pressed her ear into the wall even more as if she were trying to melt into the wall itself. She heard the words "sale" and "purchase" along with the words "demolition" and "renovation". Her eyes shot open and her blood ran cold. _No._ The jade eyed girl listened even more intently but their voices quieted and she could glean no more from the other side of the wall. The young woman gave up and sighed. She turned her back to the wall and slowly slid down it. A blank stare of shock took over her features. _No, it can't be right. I must have heard them wrong._ She shook her head to relieve the shock and waited for the men to leave.

The younger woman did not sit there much longer for she heard the door of the other room open and the men's voices spilled out into the hall. She was on her feet in a second and she cracked the door to the hallway just enough that she could sneak a look at the strangers. One was a stocky fat man with a trimmed beard the color of freshly fallen snow. The other was a tall lanky man who dressed way too lavishly to show off his money and power. He stood over the stocky man by a head or more and his thin black mustache looked like someone had penciled it in while he was sleeping. She watched their shifty eyes move back and fourth from Monsieur's Firmin and André. All four men exchanged handshakes and continued to mutter in a jovial tone. The young woman waited until all four men had left before finally opening the door and emerging out into the hallway.

Here in the dim light of the hall one could see what the shadows allowed. She was a slim young woman of twenty-two years. Her slight curves were covered in the blackest of black dresses that reached down to flare around her calves. The dress's sleeves covered her pale arms and white gloves concealed slim hands. The black dress was trimmed around the collar with white lace. Black boots rose up her legs up to the knee and they looked to be made of a soft material for sneaking. The girl's face was rounded ever so slightly and jade eyes peered from behind a black masquerade mask. The mask covered the area around her eyes all the way down to the bottom of her slightly pointed nose, concealing her identity. Auburn hair was put into a tight braid that trailed from the base of her skull all the way to the curve of her lower back. Lastly a black cloak hung off of her shoulders and just barely kissed the ground with a hush every time she moved.

The jade eyed young woman spent little time in the hallway and quickly made her way into the adjoining office. The door was locked, as her managers did every night, so she took out her skeleton key that hung on a small chain around her neck. She slipped the key into the lock and turned it silently. She pushed the door open quietly before slipping into the darkness of the abandoned office. Her eyes adjusted to the darkness and she moved about the room and quickly found a lamp. She lit the lamp and the soft glow filled the room. The young woman went to work. She moved to the desk and rifled through all of the papers until she found a leather bound bunch with a seal on the front. She opened the bunch and read through the first page of the document. Her pink lips parted as her jaw dropped slightly. They were negotiations to sign over the Opéra Populaire to those two men who had just left. She flipped through the rest of the document quickly and found a letter of intent telling in detail how they were going to demolish the theater and build a manor in its place. The young woman gripped the documents with anger. Her knuckles turned white from gripping the papers so hard. Her body trembled with anger and fear.

"No. No! They cannot do this to us! This is our home. They cannot simply demolish this wonderful place. They simply cannot! I will not let them!"

She slammed the papers onto the desk and seethed in anger for a moment. But the boiling of her blood was interrupted when a cool wind blew across her back and the lantern wavered before blowing out. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end and her skin prickled. The young woman stood stark still like a rabbit afraid of being seen in the brush. Only the soft rise and fall of her chest betrayed her with movement. She felt a presence behind her and for a brief moment she feared she had been caught by one of the managers. But those fears were assuaged when a deep melodic voice spoke out from just inches behind her. She felt a breath on the back of her neck and she involuntarily shivered.

"Have you been taking good care of my Opera, my child?"

His voice rang out in the quiet darkness and the young woman felt it as if he were speaking to her very soul. She took a shaking breath and let it out before speaking. Her voice was just above a whisper but it was not without reverence.

"Yes… my Phantom."

She could almost feel the Phantom smile behind her as she said his name. The young woman dare not turn around. Fear and awe gripped every fiber of her being. He reached forward to the desk and picked up the leather bound notes from the desk. His hand brushed her own and his touch was electricity against her skin.

"Then what are these?"

The young woman drew another shaky breath before speaking again.

"Those are void. I will not let it happen. I will do anything to save this Opera. It is my home."

For the first time her voice did not shake. In fact, it rose with anger and conviction and passion. She clenched her fists at her side and her resolve was set. The Phantom dropped the documents back onto the desk and drew himself away from the young woman. His hand gently touched her arm and sent goose bumps across her skin. She gasped almost silently but it did not escape the notice of the Phantom. She could almost feel him backing away, but when he spoke she felt it across her skin like a wind.

"_We_ will do anything to save this Opera. It is our home, _ma petit fantôme_. I regret I have left it for so long. But I am glad it was left in such capable hands."

The young woman smiled as he called her his little phantom. Her eyes lit up when he said _we_. The young woman reached forward onto the desk and grabbed the documents. She dropped them into a metal trash can before lighting a small match and dropping it on top of the papers. It took only moments for them to catch fire and the glow lit the room. The young woman risked a look at the Phantom and he looked exactly as she remembered him on stage six years ago. His stark white mask contrasted the dark ebony of his hair. The eye the young woman could see glittered in the flame light. A dark cloak hung about his shoulders and obscured most of his form in shadow. She looked deep into his eyes and for once, she was not afraid. She was awed and intrigued by the Phantom but there was no fear. The Phantom's eye widened a bit before his lips turned into the smallest shadow of a smile. She tore her eyes away from the Phantom and looked back to the small fire. The Phantom spoke.

"Let us show those fools who really runs this Opera House."

The jade eyed woman smiled.

"Yes, my Phantom."

A gust of wind suddenly ran through the tiny office and spilled all of the papers about. The young woman's cloak billowed for a second. She quickly looked to the Phantom but found he was gone. She looked back to the desk and found a single envelope with his signature seal. A smile took over her lips as she looked back to the spot where the Phantom had just been standing. Her fingers unconsciously went to the spot where the Phantom had grazed her arm. It still burned from his touch. All these years of waiting, of scheming. Now her greatest wish had been realized.

_Mon __Fantôme has returned. _


	2. Le Masque

**A/N:** Yeah it's chapter 2! This one explains what's been going on since the closing scenes of the movie. Please Review! I love reviews!

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Six years ago today marked the famous chandelier incident with the Phantom of the Opera. Six years ago the Opera house caught fire and all thought was lost. Six years ago a girl crawled into the very depths of the opera house to look upon the home of her idol. Six years ago she vowed to see the Opera Populaire sing again with the song of the Phantom.

Today was the day.

Six years ago the chandelier of the Opera fell and caught fire to over half of the Opera House. A few died, but most we able to escape without harm. That night they followed the Phantom of the Opera into the catacombs of the Opera House. They never caught him and there are only rumors of what really transpired there. They sealed off all known entrances to the bowels of the Opera House soon after without touching any of the Phantoms belongings. They all believed him to be a demon sent from hell to haunt the Opera House and their leading soprano Christine Daae. They didn't want the curse to transfer to any other. They thought if they sealed it away forever than they would be safe.

It took a year and a half to restore to Opera House to its former glory. Patrons, especially the Viscount de Changy, poured in from all over and funded the rebuilding of the famous opera house. All the while all of the dancers, actors, and stage workers were relocated to surrounding theaters for temporary jobs. All except one. A girl of sixteen told Madame Giri that she was offered a job across the city and no one saw her until the Opera was officially declared safe for the employees to come back. But there was no job in the city. She spent that year and a half finding another entrance into the Phantoms lair in the catacombs. Luckily they didn't know every passage in the Opera House so it was impossible for them to seal them all. She restored the lair back to its former state and began looking through all of the phantoms possessions. She found among his unfinished operas and many manuscripts a blueprint of the Opera Populaire. She studied every inch until she could walk through the Opera House blindfolded. She read The Phantoms manuscripts and became more and more fascinated by him each day. She decided someone needed to carry on his work for the good of the Opera House. He may have been disturbed, but he was only disturbed when it came to his obsession over Christine Daae. Before her, he treated his opera house like his child. He cared for it in ways the managers never could.

So she took up his mantle as The Phantom of The Opera. She began sending notes in the same fashion he once did. She demanded payment, though nothing as extravagant as the 20,000 francs a month they used to pay. She was always polite, if a little condescending, so they took this Phantom over the old one. She also threatened a disaster worse than the last one should they not meet her standards. But no one knew it was a woman running the Opera Populaire. No one knew a seamstress had the managers on puppet strings. She worked tirelessly to keep the Opera House in running order along with her normal duties as a seamstress. Four and a half years she's worked as the Phantom. Among his many possessions she found the remains of an opera that was almost finished by the Phantom. The young woman knew very little about the piano, but she had a friend in the orchestra and she taught herself to play the entire thing. She used her own musical ear to fill in the blank spots where the Phantom had left things unfinished. She slaved over that Opera until she knew it was finished, and then she presented it to her managers. They took it up with a little reluctance. The lead role looked to be tailored to Christine Daae, but she had left the previous year to live with Raoul and to bear his child. They went and found a replacement and she seemed fit for the part well enough. The young woman watched as the Phantoms opera, which was now her opera, came to life before her eyes. Now the show was premiering tonight, and the seamstress was a bundle of nerves.

"Vitoria! Pay attention! You'll sew her dress to her leg if you don't focus, girl!"

The jade eyed girl's head shot up. She had gotten distracted again and her needle had gone astray. The chorus girl who's hem she was fixing gave her a befuddled look. Vitoria muttered a quite apology before going back to her work. Sometimes she couldn't believe her own life. During the day she was a quiet seamstress with no defining features except for her green eyes. Many times she had been told she should bottle that color and sell it for she would surely make a fortune.

But during the night she worked as The Phantom of The Opera. She delivered her notes and checked on her managers making sure they weren't getting out of line. She was confident under the black mask of the phantom. She was strong, determined, and a little condescending at times. She cared about her Opera more than she cared about her own life sometimes. She was constantly trying to live up to the intimidating visage. She looked up to and admired the Phantom.

She finished the hem on the chorus girls dress and smiled at the girl. She ran off without so much as a thank you. Vitoria shook her head and her auburn locks danced around her face. She stood and stretched. Working on your knees all day was tiring work. She feigned a headache to her mistress and stepped away from the chaos of backstage. Her mistress always believed her about her headaches. Her mother had often complained about them before her death when Vitoria was little. So she was able to sneak away from the rush of chorus girls who have ripped their hands in their feverish dancing.

Vitoria found a dark nook in the web of hallways behind the stage. In this nook she knew there was a trap door she could easily access. Under a pile of chairs she found the tiny trap door and quickly crawled into it and down the ladder. Only when she was all the way down the ladder and into the darkness of the tunnel did she breathe a sigh. Every muscle in her body felt tense. Tonight her truest dream was coming to fruition. Her Opera and her Phantom would be making their debuts tonight. She shivered with anticipation. She noticed her heart rate climbing and breathing becoming more shallow the more she thought about it. She forced herself to close her eyes and think about something else. She recited one of her favorite poems from one of the Phantoms many books in her head and it calmed her slightly. She reached for the torch on the wall and lit it. The torch was bright to her eyes and lit the corridor. She began her trek down the stone corridor. She let her mind wander as she took her steps. She found she got to her destination easier and quicker when she let her heart guide her instead of her head.

It did not take her long to go from below the stage to the rooftops of the opera house. The sun began to dip down in the sky. Evening was just now upon the city. The show started just after dusk, so they had only a few hours left before the rise of the curtain. She leaned on the ledge and overlooked the crowd at the base of the theater. A huge crowd had already begun to form. A small smile tugged at Vitoria's lips as satisfaction washed over her. All of this was her work, her toil. She was glad to see it finally come to life. But a nagging in the back of her head stopped her from feeling fully satisfied. _They are planning to sell this place. They are planning to tear it down. _Vitoria shook her head. She would not let it happen. She had no idea how she was going to prevent this catastrophe though. She had never dealt with anything of this magnitude.

_But now I have the help of the Phantom, the real Phantom._

As if summoned by the mere thought of him, she felt a presence behind her. She felt a shiver travel down her spine like a cold wind. He stood a mere couple of inches away and his voice rang through her bones and tugged at her chest.

"They have flocked to see what the Phantom has to offer them. They will have a show beyond their wildest imagination."

Vitoria looked down at the crowd and for once she knew how the hawk must feel looking at the field mice. The people inside the opera house were her wards. The people who paid to get in were a different story entirely. A small smirk reached her lips. She was reaching the place in her heart where the Phantom resided.

"So, you will make your presence known again tonight?"

"Yes. Which is why I would like you to accompany me tonight in Box 5."

Vitoria was surprised for a moment before she responded.

"But… why? What purpose would that serve?"

She felt the Phantom lean forward and he spoke next to her ear. His voice ghosted along her skin, prickling it as it went. She had to catch her breath for a second.

"That is for you to find out, _ma petite fantôme._"

Inwardly, Vitoria worried a little. The last time the Phantom schemed in such a way the Opera house was left in shambles and Vitoria had been left to pick up the pieces. This worry must have manifested on her features because the Phantom pulled away and his voice tensed.

"Do you doubt me, child?"

She could feel the heat rushing to her cheeks. She was not a child. She hated it when people called her child. Her idol was no different. She turned suddenly, her skirt billowing out slightly, and faced the Phantom. His eyes were sapphire globes. One was hidden away behind the mask, the other stared at Vitoria with contempt. Vitoria was stunned for just a moment before she regained her composure. She had not yet had a full conversation with the Phantom. He did not know her, and she only knew him through his music and his manuscripts. She gathered up all of her strength and spoke without wavering.

"I worry about you. The last time you schemed, you left the Opera house broken and fled without a second thought. Now this is my Opera house and I cannot let you do the same again." She paused. "And I am not a child."

She shocked herself with her own boldness. Why did she speak in such a manner to her idol? She certainly did not want to anger him or displease him. But she also did not want him to see her as a child. To anyone else she would have stayed silent. But she did not care about the opinions of others. She only cared about the opinion of the Phantom. She saw the Phantom's eyes widen for a second. No one ever talked to the Phantom in such a way, at least not to his face. For once his voice did not dance down her skin, but rather beat against her like a strong wind.

"Insolent woman! How dare you doubt my intentions?"

Vitoria's voice rose for the first time.

"How dare I? You caught the Opera House on fire in a fit of jealous rage when last you were here. It is prudent of me to keep an eye on you to make sure you do not do it again. And may I remind you that it was I in my insolence that slaved to restore the Opera Populaire and your composition to its full glory. Six years I worked to bring the old Opera House back to life. While for six years you lay hidden."

Her voice steadily got louder until she was practically shouting. All of the frustration, all of the isolation had finally caught up to her and now she was venting to the only person that would understand the trials she's been through. As she spoke she could see the rage gathering in the facial features she could see of the Phantom. Vitoria shrank away a little. _What have I done?_ She had just baited a man she knew to be unstable. She had just yelled at her inspiration for all of the things she's done.

The Phantom looked like he was going to yell at her and he opened his mouth. But instead of yelling he let out a breath like he was trying to clam himself. He turned away from Vitoria. She could see him clenching his fists like he was trying not to be angry. Vitoria waited in silence while the Phantom regained his composure. He turned around and faced her. His face was slowly going back to that blank demeanor he usually carried. Finally he let out a breath and his voice came out quieter than before and much more controlled.

"So, I assume you are going to hold that indiscretion over my head forever."

He looked into Vitoria's eyes and for the first time she saw something other than anger or mystery. She saw guilt. Vitoria understood. This Opera house was just as much his home as it was Vitoria's. He must feel guilty for the harm he's caused it in his own fit of madness. Vitoria considered for a moment using this guilt to her advantage but she brushed the thought away. Even if she could, the Phantom was smart enough to somehow use it against her in the end. Nonetheless a small smile invaded her lips. Even if she couldn't hold it over his head forever, she could do it for a while longer.

"Only if you plan on living forever."

The Phantom realized she was trying weakly to put the conversation is a less argumentative direction and the guilt faded from his features. He regained that mysterious aloofness that he was so good at. Without warning he took two steps forward so quickly that had Vitoria not seen it with her own eyes, she would have believed he had just appeared in front of her. She gasped quietly and the shadow of a smile passed over his lips as he realized the effect he had on her. He leaned forward and spoke into her ear.

"So far, so well."

He leaned back and stepped away. A gust of wind blew across the rooftop and his cloak moved with it. Vitoria took a breath and she could smell the candles from the Phantoms lair as the smell wafted off of his skin. Vitoria closed her eyes and lived in the smell for a moment. All of the nights spent working in that lair; those candles were the smell of home. While her eyes were closed she felt the Phantoms gloved hand take her own and turn her palm upward. He placed something cold and smooth in her palm before speaking again.

"Act 2, scene 3. Make sure you are in Box 5."

Vitoria gripped the thing in her palm and opened her eyes. When she did the Phantom was gone. She smiled and looked down to the thing in her palm. It was a mask. The porcelain was as white as snow and it was fashioned in the same way her black one was. She ran her fingers over the smooth porcelain and smiled as she saw what was in the very bottom right hand corner. It was a tiny music note. The only deviation from the pure white of the mask. She held the mask against her chest and looked down at the crowd.

_They won't know what hit them. _


	3. Le Ballet

**A/N:** _Hey guys. I know this chapter has taken me a long time to write, but I think it's worth it. Let me know where you think this story is going to go in the future because I have a couple different ideas of my own and I'd like to know what you think._

_Remember: Review Review Review!_

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Vitoria was busy with the seam of a dancer's pants when she heard the introduction to Act 2 beginning to play. She quickly hurried her sewing and fixed the dancer's pants so that he would be able to perform later with both legs of his pants still attached. Vitoria's skin felt like electricity and her heart was likely to jump right out of her chest with the force it was pumping. She had never been more excited, or nervous in her life. So far the opera was going well. There were no major mishaps and their new lead seemed to be doing swimmingly. But Vitoria the seamstress had to be on her way. She had precious little time to make her transformation into the Phantom of the Opera.

Vitoria finished the seam of the dancer's pants and told the head seamstress she was going to check on the girls of stage right to make sure they didn't need any repairs. As soft and swift as a shadow she ran backstage through the maze of equipment and hallways. Finally she reached a costume closet she knew to be long abandoned. She put her skeleton key into the lock and turned the key until she head it click. Looking around to make sure no one saw, she slipped into the darkness of the closet. When she emerged she was wearing a black dress similar to her usual one except much more elegant. The neck of the dress was ruffled with white lace while the rest of the dress was black velvet and lace. It was shorter in the front than it was in the back and she covered her legs with slightly heeled black boots that reached her knees. She wore full length white gloves that ran up the length of her arm. Instead of the usual way she kept her hair braided down her back, she let it hang loose for once in a wavy mass down her back. She wrapped the black cloak around her shoulders and finally added the white porcelain mask the Phantom had given her earlier. She looked like the dressed up version of her normal self. But who doesn't dress up to go to the Opera? Vitoria wrapped the cloak around her to hide her body and disappeared into the maze of hallways and equipment and made her way to Box 5.

The chorus girls pranced around the stage as the woodwinds painted the scene with their airy music. The girl's ethereal dresses drifted and moved with the motion of their bodies. They moved as one glittering wave across the stage. Back and fourth as the music dictated. The ballet in this scene was really beautiful. At the very front of the stage a young blond sat on a lavishly decorated bed. This scene was supposed to depict the dreams of the young woman who was the lead of the play. The young woman rose from her spot on the bed and moved to join the ballerinas. Jade eyes followed her graceful movements across the stage, making sure she didn't mess anything up. This was only her second time acting as the female lead of the opera. Vitoria had picked her out of the slew of pretty girls as the singular talent. She even designed and made her dress for the climax of the opera. Vitoria had only hoped the Phantom would approve of her choice of leads.

Currently Vitoria was watching the opera from Box 5. More specifically it was a small alcove adjoining Box 5, hidden from all other than those who already knew where it was. There was a small portion of the wall that slid out to allow whoever was in the alcove to se the show, without being seen by anyone outside the Box 5. Vitoria let her eyes wander throughout the audience and her eyes widened in shock. There was a familiar face there. Christine Daae sat in the first row with her husband, Raoul. She looked like she had aged slightly since Vitoria last saw her. But that was normal considering the last time she saw her was when Christine was with child and about to give birth. _Having a child put years under your eyes. _Vitoria wondered whether the Phantom knew she was going to be there. She had a sneaking suspicion he did.

Vitoria heard the music change and her eyes went back to the dancers. She kept her eyes trained on the stage and in the shadows. The scene was about to shift into the third scene, which was when the dream turned into a vicious nightmare. Masked devils flooded the stage and flushed away the ethereal dancers. They surrounded the female lead and snapped and growled at the frightened girl. She turned and twisted about trying to get away but they blocked her every exit. Until finally they corralled her to center stage and circled her. They all took one step forward and suddenly there was an explosion. Somewhere a large boom resounded on stage. The music kept going, but the dancers faltered. Another explosion, this one much closer. Vitoria stood in the alcove and slowly slid the panel open so she could slip into the Box. Another explosion and smoke trickled from backstage and Vitoria thought the worst. But it was a small amount of smoke. With all of the flammable things backstage if he were to set something on fire, there would be a lot more screaming and smoke. Another explosion and the music finally halted and the dancers as well. Vitoria closed the panel behind her and stood in Box 5. There was a pause and a lot of muttering commenced in the crowd. Vitoria kept her eyes on the stage though. _This is it._

A flash of light and another resounding boom echoed around the theater. A plume of smoke enveloped the young woman on stage and all of the demon dressed dancers stepped away in fear. When the smoke died down the young woman was gone and in her place stood the Phantom of the Opera. His white mask shone out in the dim lighting. There were several screams and cries of outrage from the audience. Vitoria smiled. He wanted a grand entrance, and he got it. He was wearing his usual black attire along with his cloak. He took a step towards the audience and the dancers stepped back. One of them fled the stage in fear. The smallest of smiles graced his lips and it was not a friendly one.

"Good evening good monsieur's."

His voice like black velvet floated out and above the crowd. He opened his arms like he was presenting the stage to the audience. Vitoria leaned against the railing of Box 5. The Phantom's eyes flicked for a second to the front row.

"I expect you all have missed me during my long absence. It is regrettable that I was gone for so long, but luckily I had very capable hands doing my work."

He gestured to Box 5 and everyone simultaneously looked to Vitoria. She felt subconscious for a moment and almost shrank away but then she realized she was under the guise of the Phantom. She had a mask to hide her true face. She quickly adopted the same smirk as the Phantom and stepped fully into the light. There were gasps and cries from below as the crowd realized that there were really two Phantoms. Their fears doubled. Several people moved to leave the theater but the Phantom spoke again and froze them in their place.

"Why leave so soon? The play has only nearly begun!"

He looked to Vitoria and it was like a voice had spoken in her head and suddenly she knew what to do. Vitoria stood on the ledge of Box 5 above the crowd. The crowd shrieked in surprise and fear. She bent her knees and prepared herself to jump. With all the strength she could muster she jumped from Box five in the direction of the stage. Time slowed down to a crawl as Vitoria flew in the air. She had all of the time in the world to reach out and grab the curtains of the stage and ride them down. She held on as the cloth ripped and gave way to her weight. She swung through the air on the way down and landed with a thump and the clacking of her heels on the wooden stage. Her cloak billowed behind her with the force of the fall and Vitoria stood a moment, with her knees bent and her eyes down until her cloak settled. In one fluid motion she stood tall, locked eyes with the audience and flung her cape to one side to reveal her dress and her very female form.

The Phantom looked to her and held his hand out to her. Vitoria made quick strides to close the distance between them. The dancers fled anytime she came close to them. She held her hand out to the Phantom and his closed his around her own and her heart jumped. They stood together hand in hand until the Phantom pulled his hand away from hers and calmly took it and placed it around her back on her opposite hip and hugged her close almost possessively. Her skin burned where he touched her and she had to fight everything in her to keep her cheeks from glowing red from the contact. It was then she realized something. From far away he looked calm and malevolent. But up close she could feel the racing of his pulse and the slight sheen of sweat on his skin. He was excited to be in front of the crowd once more. He spoke to the crowd.

"She has kept the Opera house in check, but it seems you all of grown confident and stupid in my absence. Which is why you all should know, that it is not you who run this Opera house, it is us. You will do best to learn this now or it will cost you dearly." He narrowed his eyes and looked straight to Christine Daae. "Though you may have forgotten, this is my opera house." He looked out to the crowd again. His face was dark and serious.

Vitoria raised her voice. "We'll be watching."

Suddenly there was an explosion and a cloud of smoke erupted from where the two phantoms stood. The crowd screamed in fear and some rushed out of the theater. But when the smoke drifted away the only thing there was the lead of their production unconscious on the stage. In her left hand was a red rose with a black ribbon tied around it. In her right there was a note with the phantom's seal.

Minutes later, two cloaked figures were dashing through the tunnels of the catacombs beneath the theater. They ran hand in hand until they reached the tunnels they knew lead up to the Phantom's lair. The Phantom slowed down and Vitoria slowed behind him, still gripping his gloved hand. Her breathing was heavy from the quick dash they had made through the theater and her chest heaved with the effort of breathing. This was made worse when suddenly she had the strange urge to laugh. At first it was a soft chuckle and it began to build until a full laughter was bubbling fourth from her lips. The phantom did not share in this laughter, but a smirk still played upon his lips. He caught his breath and looked to the laughing woman as if he were truly seeing her for the first time. They unlocked their hands and Vitoria leaned against the wall as her laughing subsided.

"I can't believe we just did that." She said as her breathing became more even.

The Phantom looked at her. "Well you better get used to it; because I have a feeling we'll be doing a lot more than that if those stupid managers do not learn their place."

Vitoria nodded. In the run her hair had fallen in her face. The phantom reached forward and brushed a strand from her face and behind her ear. He held the side of her face in his hand and she leaned into the gloved hand, closing her eyes. He spoke softly. "Thank you, _ma petit fantôme,_ for jumping when the time came."

She smiled and opened her eyes. Her jade orbs peered deep into his sapphire ones. "Just say the word _mon fantôme_, and I will always jump for you."

The Phantom smiled. "Good."


	4. Le Vrai Visage

**A/N:** _Sorry it's taking me so long to update this story. It's more of something I do when I'm bored than something I'm determined to finish. But it is very quickly blossoming into one of my favorite stories._

_Remember: The more reviews, the sooner I update! Thanks for reading!_

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Vitoria walked silently through the secret tunnel under the opera house. It was just big enough for someone a bit larger than Vitoria to get through and it was almost completely black. Vitoria had a small candle at the end of her arm and she used its dim light to guide her way. Though she really didn't need it to know where she was going, she knew this path by heart. It was mainly for avoiding stepping on the occasional rat. She had avoided wearing her mask and black dress tonight and instead wore her usual seamstress' uniform. Her hair was pulled back into its usual long braid and her feet were covered in simple worker's shoes. She usually didn't mind her seamstress' uniform, but the closer and closer she got to her destination, the more she felt demeaned by the clothing.

Finally Vitoria saw a dim light ahead of the candle and reached out for it. She felt the thick velvet curtain and pushed it aside, revealing the lair of the Phantom of the Opera. The lair was a lavishly decorated cave dwelling she recognized as home. She spent many nights here when the Opera house was under repair so this place was riddled with memories. Vitoria blew the candle in her hand out and placed it on an empty candle stand next to her. She stepped on the expensive rugs that littered the floor of the lair and looked around for the masked figure of the Phantom.

"_Mon Fantôme_?"

She spoke out in the emptiness of the lair and listened for a response. None came, only the sound of the water as it lapped against the stone steps. She took more steps inside and looked to where the Phantom usually slept. The bed was empty. She wondered briefly where he had gone, but she did not worry about it. She was confident whatever he was doing; it was for the benefit of the Opera House. Vitoria instantly made her way to the giant piano that was the centerpiece of the room. She had been itching to play the piece she had been playing almost every day since she found it hidden away amongst the Phantom's possessions. With all of the excitement of the previous night, Vitoria needed something to calm her soul. She sat herself upon the stool and placed her slender fingers gently on the cool ivories. She pressed the keys, delicately at first, as the opening of the song dictated. It started off a slow and soft melody. Vitoria closed her eyes and let the music carry her to the innermost depths of her heart. As the song went on the tempo picked up and Vitoria found herself passionately playing the piece as if her heart was kept beating only by the tempo of the song. She forgot everything, every fear, every worry, every doubt and lost herself in the song.

She was so lost in the music she did not realize that a harmony to her song was playing with her until it had been playing for quite a long time. Even when she noticed it, it still took her a moment to open her eyes and look beside her. None other than the Phantom himself sat beside her, playing the harmony to her melody. His sudden appearance should have shocked her into stopping but she merely closed her eyes again and continued playing even more zealously. The Phantom caught on and picked up the pace as well, following her lead. Both of their bodies rocked back and fourth to the music and their fingers danced across the keys like they were prima ballerinas of the piano. They hit the last chorus of the song and a mischievous smile took over Vitoria's lips. She played a different ending than the written one and it threw the Phantom off. Vitoria was left playing alone while the Phantom watched her with much interest. Vitoria finished off the song in a much gentler manner than the previously written one. When her fingers finally stilled on the piano, Vitoria's heart was still racing. She caught her breath with that light smile still on her face and turned to the Phantom. His face bore a bemused look, which was the closest thing to a smile Vitoria had ever seen on those lips.

"Why did you change the ending?"

His voice was thick velvet across her skin. Vitoria looked to those sapphire eyes of his and felt comfort from them. Around the Phantom she was not just a lowly seamstress. She was his apprentice, his miniature. Even with her mask on she felt like he could see beyond it. Especially now at this moment where she wasn't wearing one at all.

"You left it a little open ended in the draft version. It leads better into the next song this way."

She lazily pressed a couple of keys and tore her eyes away from the beautiful masked figure before her. She could not believe that she was sitting here in the lair of the Phantom, discussing music as if they were old friends. Her idol was sitting inches away from her and he was wholly real. He was not a Phantom.

"Play it again."

His voice was smooth, but ever so slightly demanding. It was not a request, but an order. Vitoria did not mind though. She straightened up on the seat and set her fingers in position on the keys. She took a breath and let it out slowly before starting the music. She began just a few measures before the revised ending and soon found herself lost in it just as before. Moments later she heard the Phantom play his harmony and it was perfect. He had picked up the ending only after hearing it once. He truly was a musical genius. He added things that Vitoria wouldn't have thought of on her own that made the already beautiful piece almost glide off of the piano and dance before them. They played together until the piece ended and Vitoria pressed the very last notes of the song.

She smiled with her hands still on the piano and let out a relaxed breath. All of the stresses of last night and today seemed like a distant memory in the deepest fogs of her mind. She felt truly relaxed, and excited, all at the same time. Her Phantom was both a chilling presence, and one that made the blood boil in her veins. He was both calming and exciting. She could never imagine so many contradictions could exist in one person. He was both beautiful, and terrible. He was malevolent and kind. He was everywhere and he was no where. He was her Phantom, but he was also very real. Her heart pounded in her chest, but her mind and her spirit were at ease.

"Much better."

The Phantom spoke simply. He looked up from the piano and his eyes ran up and down Vitoria and suddenly she felt very self conscious. His one sapphire eye reflected surprise and a little confusion. His lips pursed disapprovingly. Vitoria could suddenly feel how small the distance was between them and she was uncomfortable. She rose from the bench and walked across the room to light a few more candles and turned away from the Phantom. She was suddenly embarrassed that she showed up to the home of her idol in such lowly attire.

"So, you are a seamstress?"

Vitoria bit her lip and nodded, still not meeting the Phantom's face. Her cheeks grew a little rosier in color as she failed to hold back a blush.

"Yes."

It was a quiet answer, almost too soft to hear. The Phantom raised an eyebrow at the auburn haired girl and waited for her to elaborate, but she did not. She merely finished up lighting the candles and moved on to doing other little things around the lair. She was clearly avoiding the conversation with her silence. She was embarrassed of her lowly occupation. She moved up the stairs and the Phantom kept his eyes on her as she drew the curtain hiding a small alcove aside. He visibly flinched, expecting to see the bust of Christine Daae, but was surprised to see the female bust still there: only it was headless. Vitoria fastened the curtain to one side and stepped so he could see the entire alcove without her blocking his way. The headless female bust now wore the same dress Vitoria had been wearing last night. Both of her masks were mounted safely on the walls like little trophies. Her gloves and boots were stationed on a small shelf below where they were kept clean and out of the way. Vitoria didn't know why she was showing him this. But she felt it was important that she did.

The Phantom gracefully rose from the bench and almost glided across the floor to where Vitoria was standing. With every step she felt her heart beat quicken. Finally he reached the small alcove and looked inside. He ran a gloved finger over the black mask before picking it up as if it were made of the most fragile glass. He looked away from the mask and locked eyes with the young woman before him. His eyes were probing and searching before he ever asked his question.

"Why did you take up my mask after I…" He paused, searching for the words to replace those he wished to avoid. "…fled the Opera House?"

Vitoria took a breath and thought before she spoke. She did not want to misspeak in front of her idol like she had last night.

"Because I couldn't let your work die. I have grown up in this Opera House, and for as long as I remember you've been our guardian angel. You've kept watch over all of us and made sure those with power never used it for the wrong reasons. You provided us with song and magic. You were our protector from those that would wish us harm. You protected us by making us fear, but you did it nonetheless. I couldn't let that go."

Vitoria moved to the steps and sat down on them. She kept her eyes away from the Phantom. She feared if she looked into his eyes she would see him watching her and she would lose her story. But even without looking she felt his gaze. She took a breath and continued.

"After they had told us you fled the Opera House I didn't believe it. So I went searching for your lair here. It took me a while but when I finally found it and saw you were really gone, I was crushed. I couldn't believe you could have left us like that. But I knew it was that damned girl's fault. I saw her bust in the alcove and all of your notes about her and I knew your love drove you to madness. I understood completely. For you are an artist and a genius and you feel things differently than normal people."

Vitoria shook her head. She was getting off topic.

"Once the patrons went through here and decided they were going to restore this place I knew they couldn't do it without some supervision. So while they were doing reconstruction I made some modifications of my own. New hiding places and new pathways along with some surprises I could use if the need arises. I was determined to convince everyone I was you. During the ball on opening night I drugged five chorus girls and set them in rooms adjoining the main ball room. Each of them carried a note dictating how the theater is to be run. Finally after everyone had fled from ballroom to the plaza outside, I set the gargoyles on the roof on fire and rained down a flaming copy of Dan Juan. They got the message. Ever since I've been masquerading as you during the night, and taking on my seamstress duties during the day. I couldn't let this place be soiled by the greedy and the damned. This is my home."

When she was done speaking she realized she had rambled on again and she kept her lips tightly shut and looked down at her hands. She had calluses on the very tips of her fingers and little red dots all over her thumbs from the constant pricking of a needle. She felt better, knowing he finally knew her story. But she was also anxious, awaiting his judgment on her tale. She heard the soft rustling of his clothes as he moved to stand in front of Vitoria, but she did not look up. Only when he held out a hand to help her to her feet did she look to the face of her idol. His face was serious, but not cold. She placed her hand in his and he pulled her to her feet.

"You're wrong."

Vitoria's face fell. She had expected this. She expected the Phantom to take her tale as nothing more than a young girl's excuse to play dress up. She tried to make her face void of emotion, but found she could not in front of the Phantom. Disappointment crept into her features. The Phantom took the black mask in his hands and held it at either end, facing him. Vitoria feared he would break the mask, so she looked away so she would not have to see him do it.

Suddenly she felt the cool black porcelain against her flushed cheeks and found the Phantom was affixing the mask to her face and tying the ribbon behind her head. She looked to the Phantom with confusion in her eyes.

"You are not a seamstress. You are _mon petite fantôme_."

Vitoria could not have been happier if the Phantom had given her the entire world on a silver platter. A small smile broke across her face and she felt her heart lift with joy. She looked into the Phantom's eyes for the first time tonight, without fear, without caution, without doubt and knew that he accepted her wholly and fully for who she was when she was wearing the mask. That was all Vitoria had wanted in the first place. For her true face was not the one bearing her jade eyes with her mother's chin and her father's nose. No. Her true face was the smooth porcelain that rendered her unidentifiable as Vitoria.

The Phantom looked at Vitoria and saw the joy in her eyes and for just a brief second, she could see that he was glad. But that melted away just as quickly as it had came and he retained that mysterious visage. He spoke and his words were bells to her very soul.

"So now we must prepare. Those fools who think they own this opera will be retaliating soon for the trouble we caused their show. We must make sure they know who the true masters of that stage are."

A mischievous and unkind smile crept into Vitoria's lips.

"Yes _mon Fantôme_. Let us show them."


End file.
